AT the battle of Manila,
In the un-Pacific sea,
Stood a gunner with his mad up
Just as far as it could be —
Stood a gunner brave and ready
For the hated enemy.
Near the Isles of Philopena
Raged the battle all the morn,
And the plucky Spanish sailors
By the shot and shell were torn;
And the flag that floated o’ er them
To oblivion was borne.
Every cannon belched projectiles,
Every cannon breathed forth hell,
Every cannon mowed the foeman
From the deck into the swell,
When amid the din of battle
Rang the silvery breakfast-bell.
“Stop your shooting! Come to breakfast!”
Cried the gallant Commodore.
“After eating we will let them
Have a rousing old encore.
Stow your lanyards, O my Jackies;
Let the cannon cease to roar.”
Then upspake the fighting gunner:
“Dewey, don’ t, I beg of you.
What’ s the use of drinking coffee
Till we’ ve put this scrimmage through?
If there’ s any one who’ s hungry,
Won’ t this Spanish omelet do?
“Farragut would not have done it
When through Mobile Bay he sped.
Why then, Dewey, should we breakfast
Till we’ ve plunked’ em full of lead?
Let our motto be as his was —
Damn the fishballs! Go ahead!”